A compilation of essay tips, general writing advice, poems, and thoughts.

Both.

by denayarose

Bravery or weakness? I’ve carved out every cavern of my mind and I still can’t make an honest distinction. Tragedy turned commodity. False intimacy intertwined with painful recollections. We cannot bond over a disparate past. I care about your story, but please don’t make this a competition. I’m not here to buckle under your self-appointed authority. I know my view is tainted by my eyes. I can’t see without glasses.

Ownership is senseless. I’m just playing the normalcy game. I took a sociology class in college once. The professor assigned a volunteer assignment at a food bank to help us understand poverty. I liked that she could never tell I’ve been hungry before.

There’s elegance in accepting your position. It’s bold to be happy despite. But it’s demoralizing and awkward to constantly feel out of place. I’m not better for it, and I know suffering is relative. I cleanse my memory and divulge a small piece of my truth. I’m chipping away at my story.

“..please don’t make this a competition.” That’s good. Let us not. One of my favorite writers wrote, “What’s with the politics, it’s just a hobby.” So this is really good. Also, are you allowed to do that? Is it okay to reboot your memory with something you can call truce with? I mean I call it “perspective” and move on. How about you?